Dead Hours — The Long Second, Page 13
By Suha · Published
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Transcript
A wide shot echoing the opening panel, but now pale early-dawn light floods through the front windows and the empty street outside has gone soft grey-white with morning. Kaito, behind the counter in his 'KAITO' apron, turns toward the bright windows, his exhausted face lifting into realization: the night ended anyway. The clock was simply broken; time moved regardless. KAITO: 'Morning. Time moved anyway.'
Image description
Wide dawn shot: pale morning light floods the store windows and the street outside has gone grey-white. Kaito turns toward the light, realization dawning on his tired face.